Brothers
by fantasydancer
Summary: Faramir is tired of being his father's despised son. He wants to make him proud. But things don't always go as planned. Contains spanking. Don't like, don't read.
1. Chapter 1

Warning: This story will contain spanking of minors by an older sibling and references to it in later chapters. Don't like, don't read.

* * *

Faramir age: 8

Boromir age: 13

Lightning flashed across the sky. Faramir jumped at the sound of the thunder. Normally storms didn't bother him. This time however it seemed the very gates of Mordor were opening and letting its worst demons out. Faramir shuddered and climbed out of bed. The words from the dream still rang in his ears.

He remembered there had been a boat floating through the misty waters of the Anduin. Then there was a very small man being held back and he was yelling at him. "You want to know what happened to Boromir?" He'd asked. "He tried to take the ring from Frodo. After swearing an oath to protect him. He tried to kill him. The ring drove your brother mad." Then there had been a golden ring with elvish writing. Lastly there had been a gigantic eye and a hideous voice was laughing.

Faramir shook the dreams from his head before opening the door to his room and sneaking out into the hallway. He crept silently down the corridor to his brother's room. He pushed open the door and walked up to his brother's sleeping form. Boromir was lying on his back, his arm thrown over the side, snoring lightly. He nudged Boromir who moved slightly. He nudged his brother again. Harder this time.

He groaned and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What is it, little brother?" He said groggily.

"I had a dream." Said Faramir. "I, I think you were dead, and there was a ring and a voice and-" Faramir stopped when his brother held up a hand.

"Please spare me your rambling." Boromir gave him a look. "You woke me up to tell me that." Then seeing his younger brother's worried face, softened. "Do not worry little brother. Nothing is going to happen to me. Besides, it was only a dream."

He lifted the covers so his brother could crawl in beside him, the way he used to do when he was younger and scared, or had had a bad dream such as now. "Come now; let us get some sleep before Father insists upon our waking."

Faramir curled into his brother's side, and Boromir wrapped his arm around his younger sibling protectively. Within a few moments, they were both sound asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_Five years later..._

"I wonder what Father wants?" Faramir asked as he and his brother made their way to the throne room.

Boromir shrugged, but didn't say anything. Actually Denethor had only asked for Boromir, but Faramir was a thirteen year old boy and wasn't too keen on listening. Besides, Boromir liked to have his little brother's presence around. He usually went everywhere, following him like a second shadow.

The guards standing outside the throne room bowed their heads respectively to the two young princes, and opened the doors as they walked up. Inside Denethor was sitting proudly on his chair in front of the throne. He looked at Boromir and smiled slightly. Then noticing Faramir it faded and became a scowl.

"My eldest son." Denethor addressed Boromir deciding not to acknowledge his youngest. He stood up.

"Father." Boromir said, faking a smile. "You called for me?"

"Aye, son. I did."

Boromir wasn't sure he liked the gleam in his father's eyes.

"As you know today is your eighteenth birthday, and I've decided that you should be able to prove yourself worthy of the Tower Guard." Denethor walked to Boromir and placed his hands on his shoulders.

"Tomorrow you will ride with the men to engage in an attack on the Easterlings. They are causing trouble on the border again."

Boromir couldn't help but allow a small gleam into his eye. He was getting to ride with the soldiers of Minas Tirith for the first time. The troops he would one day command.

Then Boromir cast a glance back at his brother. Faramir had his head hung. If Boromir left then there wouldn't be anyone to protect him, or comfort him, or save him from Denethor's scorn.

Faramir looked up slightly, and Boromir's heart almost shattered at the look upon his face.

Faramir had always had an elvish wisdom about him, but now that wisdom was mixed in his eyes with sadness. Boromir wished he could gather his little brother up in his arms, but it would only serve to embarrass him in front of their father.

Turning back around Boromir said somewhat melancholy, "Aye, Father."

Denethor scowled at the affectionate looks that passed between his sons. He'd done his best to get rid of that love between them, but nothing seemed to work and Faramir never seemed to get jealous over the attention he gave his eldest.

_That is fine. Let him sulk._ Denethor thought. _As soon as he is old enough I am sending him to command the rangers far from here._

"I will see you at the banquet tonight. You are dismissed." He said returning to his chair.

Both boys gave a nod and exited the room

They walked silently down the corridors, Faramir struggling to keep up with Boromir's long strides.

Faramir kept his head down and rubbed a hand across his eyes to keep the tears at bay.

Suddenly he felt Boromir grab his shoulders and pull him down a deserted hall, pulling his little brother into his embrace. Faramir let out a soft sob.

"Shh, little brother. Do not weep. I will not be gone for long and I will make sure you stay safe while I am gone." Boromir murmured. He whispered words of comfort until finally Faramir pulled away slightly to wipe his cheeks.

Faramir looked up at his softly smiling brother, seeing through the compassion a wall of worry in his gaze.

Boromir was his protector, his guardian, his friend, mother, brother, and father. He was so many things to Faramir that he couldn't even begin to count them.

Boromir put his arm around Faramir's shoulders and said, "Come let us go back to practicing drills. I will be needing them soon enough and I need to know all that I can."

He led them back outside.

_Now,_ Boromir thought wryly, _all I have to do is keep him from doing something stupid while I'm gone._

He looked down at his little brother's raven colored locks that came just to his jaw line.

Boromir gave a sad smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Boromir tied the last bag onto his horse, and then looked down at his little brother. Faramir had his head hung, waiting for his brother to leave him. Boromir grabbed him in a fierce, quick embrace, and then slung his leg over the body of his roan horse and grabbed the reins. The mighty Horn of Gondor hung at his side. A gift from their father to be given to the eldest son.

Last night Denethor had bestowed it upon him at the feast. Boromir had accepted it gracefully, awe at its strange beauty showing clearly on his face.

After the feast in Boromir's chambers, Faramir had snuck in to see the horn. Boromir was out with some friends probably drinking at one of the local taverns. The horn was lying on the dresser, the shadows deepening the carvings on its surface.

Faramir had reached out as if to touch it, but stopped his hand just above the surface.

"Go ahead, little brother. Touch it."

Faramir had turned suddenly almost knocking over the dresser at the sound of his brother's voice behind him. A blush crept up his cheeks at being caught like a child trying to steal a sweet from the kitchens.

Boromir had merely smiled softly.

"Touch it, little brother." He said again.

Faramir reached out gingerly picking up the horn, stroking its surface.

A trumpet blast brought Faramir back to his thoughts of the present. Boromir nodded down at Faramir as another trumpet blast echoed throughout the city, signaling the march to begin.

Faramir watched his brother mingle into the crowd of soldiers wearing splendid, glittering armor with shields strapped onto their backs, and swords at their sides. He stood watching as they rode through the gates. After the last soldier was through Faramir turned and ran for the Tower of Ecthelion.

He flew up the stairs remembering all the times he and Boromir had raced up them. At the top he stopped and looked out over the fields of Ithilien and at the mountains of Mordor in the distance. And just below that were the ruins of the ancient city of Osgiliath.

The soldiers made their way across the fields at a steady pace, and Faramir sat with his feet dangling over the edge to watch them.

Suddenly he heard a voice calling up to him. He looked down.

It was his drill teacher, and Faramir suddenly realized he was more than late for practice.

"I am coming!" He called back down.

His drill master, Harad crossed his arms waiting impatiently. He knew the lad was missing his brother, but that wasn't an excuse to miss training.

Faramir looked down at the city. He noticed a few of the soldiers that had planned on leaving tomorrow with extra supplies, and suddenly he had an idea.

He could put on his armor and sneak in with the troops. He would get a first hand view on battle, and that would be good for him. He would be able to prove to Denethor that he could fight just as good as his brother. He could make his father proud.

Faramir knew there were flaws in this plan. He could get caught and hauled back to Minas Tirith in shame. He could come in contact with Boromir, who would tan his hide, and _then_ drag him back to Minas Tirith in shame.

But he thought it might just be worth it if it changed Denethor's opinion about him.

Boromir felt so free riding from the city. Of course it wasn't his first time riding from the city, but something felt so much different this time.

For one he was riding to war. The second reason he realized was that Faramir wasn't with him. It felt strange without his second shadow trailing him everywhere he went.

He worried for his brother. He was alone with Denethor. A man who hated him simply because he reminded him of their mother Finduilas.

Meanwhile Faramir was polishing his armor. Making it look like the soldiers armor had today.

He packed a small satchel with a clean shirt and a pair of breeches. In it he also put some snuck in bread from the kitchens wrapped in a clean cloth, and his water skin.

The next morning he rose and dressed before putting on his now shining armor. He belted his sword to his side, and was about to pick up his bow when he thought better of it, and instead slung his shield on his back.

He stood in front of the mirror standing straighter trying to look slightly older. He knew even with his armor he looked young. He had always been slightly small for his age.

But never mind. He intended to go through with his plan.

The soldiers were packing the last of their bags onto their horses, and servants loaded the cart with food, medical supplies, and extra weapons.

Faramir saddled his horse, and climbed up. He led his horse out and mixed into the soldiers keeping his face down lest anyone recognize him.

The trumpet didn't sound this time, but Faramir didn't mind as they rode off. It felt so good to actually be riding off away from here. Away from his father's disdainful and scornful looks. Away from his painful words.

They galloped across the plains.


	4. Chapter 4

The reinforcements and extra supplies had just arrived. Boromir and a few other young soldiers had been ordered to begin unloading the cart while the rest set up camp.

Boromir grabbed a crate of medical supplies and handed it to the soldier beside him.

He didn't notice the rest of the soldiers head off to set up camp. If he had he might've noticed the short, raven colored hair soldier stalking off to find a place to sleep that night far from the rest of the troops.

Faramir had begun to panic when he first saw his brother. He thought for sure he would recognize him. When he didn't though Faramir was filled with joy and disappointment at the same time.

He was glad his brother hadn't caught him, but at the same time he had kind of wished his brother had noticed him. That way his brother would know he had enough courage to sneak out of Minas Tirith and come to war. His brother would be proud of him then.

Faramir sat eating a bit of his bread and took a small sip of his water. He had camped off closer to the woods where he wouldn't be seen with his helmet off, but he could still see the troops.

Faramir felt so lonely here though. He'd always had his brother with him or at least one of his few friends who didn't believe Denethor's ridiculous stories about him. Even Denethor's harshest punishments didn't include separating him from Boromir, though he was sure Denethor would've liked to do that.

Faramir shivered in the damp night air and wished that he had brought his cloak with him. Instead he curled up, his back against a boulder and fell into a fitful sleep.

Boromir woke along with the rest of the soldiers and quickly splashed some water on his face from the river. He then jumped on his horse. Today they would be engaging in battle with the Easterlings. Scouts had reported they were less than three miles away. They had planned to make a sneak attack on their camp tonight.

Boromir couldn't wait to fight. To feel the rush of battle. To be victorious. To make his father proud.

They didn't have to ride for long before they came upon the Easterlings camp.

The soldiers of Gondor could see the fires burning in the distance. Boromir crouched down behind the lieutenant as he gave orders.

He drew his sword and on the command they raced into battle.

Faramir loved the thrill of the fight, yet didn't. He liked the strategizing, trying to fifure out his opponents next move. It was interesting.

He slashed and hacked barely registering his moves or position. He fought like a whirlwind. Easterlings cowered and ran as he forced his way through their ranks.

The soldiers of Gondor fought through the night driving away the Easterlings. Boromir loved the battle, but he was still holding on to the hope that he would get to do something heroic and prove himself.

Boromir cut down a warrior and then turned when something caught his eye, shining in the firelight. It was a short warrior wearing Gondorian armor. His helmet had been knocked off during the battle and his shoulder-length black hair was strung around his pale, fierce face. The warrior's grey eyes shone with a warriors' fire, but they also held a familiar sad understanding.

"Faramir." Boromir whispered. No. It couldn't be true. His brother wasn't that stupid, was he? Then the warrior turned his back and Boromir shook his head. It couldn't be. He was imagining things. He turned his attention to a charging warrior.

When the first rays of sunlight began to shine over the horizon the troops of the White tower left, battle-weary and bleary-eyed.

Faramir trudged back to camp happy, but tired. He barely even registered the fact that his helmet was missing.

Then suddenly a large cry went up from just over the hill and everyone turned.

Thousands of warriors charged over the hill. The soldiers of Gondor blinked and then turned away from any thought of rest.

"Get the wounded back to camp!" Shouted the captain. "Everyone else, to formations!"

Now they realized the other warriors had been a ploy just to tire them out. The soldiers charged into battle a renewed strength filling their bones.

Faramir cut down warrior after warrior, taking only a few minor injuries himself. His Dunedain senses however had dulled by the time he took a short break, and he didn't hear the huge Easterling warrior sneak up behind him.

"What have we here?" The man chortled, and Faramir whipped around. "A young boy? Such a pretty little face. Too bad it won't be that way when I get through with ya."

The warrior cleaved down at his head, but Faramir's reflexes were fast and he quickly parried it away. The battle raged on around them, but Faramir thought only of the soldier he was fighting that was at least twice his height and size.

"Faramir!" A voice bellowed. A voice he knew all too well.

He turned his attention away for a moment to see his enraged elder brother, but he couldn't even squeak before he felt the sword slash his side.

Faramir stood stunned for a moment before he fell to his knees his hand to his side. He felt the warm blood and looked down at his red hand. He looked up in time to see Boromir bellow, "Nooooo!"

He fell to the ground and darkness veiled his eyes.

Boromir couldn't believe it. His brother had come here. _Why, Faramir_? He thought as he rushed over to finish off the warrior that had hurt his brother.

_What, oh what were you thinking, you foolish, foolish boy?_

Boromir yanked his sword out of the Easterling and then ran to his brother.

Boromir didn't feel the tears on his cheeks as he gently turned his brother over and cradled his head in his arms. "Faramir." He whispered gently. "What, oh what were you thinking?"

A healer rushed up with a cloth to use as a stretcher and healing supplies.

"He is still breathing." He told the healer who nodded and then began carrying him to the cart to take back to camp.


	5. Chapter 5

Later that night Boromir was given leave to rest and he rode swiftly back to camp thinking of nothing but his little brother.

He rushed to the healer's tent to find his brother lying on a bed roll, his side stitched up but not yet bandaged.

Boromir almost wept with relief to see his chest rising and falling rhythmically. He ran his hand over Faramir's damp brow, and brushed away his hair.

Faramir's eyes fluttered open at the familiar touch. He almost jumped at seeing his brother's face in front of him, but instead groaned at the pain in his side, and the fact that he had gotten caught.

"Shh." Boromir said, gently stroking his hair. "Rest. We will talk later."

Faramir bit back another groan knowing how well this 'talk' was going to go.

Boromir would have smiled at his brother's distressed look if he hadn't of been so angry with him.

How could he have come here? He was too young. He could've been killed.

Boromir had managed to mask his rage with relief at seeing his brother alive. Faramir had done something entirely stupid and they both knew it. Now he was suffering the consequences of his decision.

"I am sorry, big brother." Faramir said quietly.

Boromir sighed. "I know, but why did you come?"

Faramir dropped his gaze and wouldn't say anything. Boromir grabbed his chin and lifted it. "Faramir, look at me." He ordered gently, but firmly.

Faramir's eyes were guilt filled but he kept his mouth shut. Boromir sighed again and thought _Ai! My foolish, stubborn little brother. He never can do anything simple._

"You will tell me eventually, Fara." He said. Faramir winced but didn't reply.

Boromir slept beside his brother's bed roll that night, but rose at dawn to head back out to the battlefield.

He was reluctant to leave his brother's side, but Faramir reassured him he would be fine. Boromir warned Faramir that he had better not do anything that would harm him further.

The battle was basically over by the time Boromir was back on the battlefield. Most of the Easterlings had fled after their captain, the one who'd attacked Faramir, was killed by Boromir.

The troops gathered the dead and wounded. The casualties were few and there hadn't been many wounded either.

The troops planned to ride back to Minas Tirith the next morning after the dead had been tended to.

Boromir went back to the healer's tent to find that their numbers had increased. Faramir was sitting up and drinking from a cup of water when Boromir finally made his way over to him.

"Feeling better, little brother?" He asked sitting down.

Faramir nodded and then shook his head as the movement caused a whole new throbbing pain. Boromir chuckled.

"You might as well not lie. I can see it in your eyes." He said draping his arm around Faramir's shoulders.

The captain walked up to the boys. "Gentlemen." He said drawing their immediate attention and salutes. "You both are to report back to Minas Tirith immediately."

"But, sir," Boromir began. "My brother needs to rest. He can not travel in his condition."

The captain glared at Faramir who shrunk into Boromir's side. "Your brother was not supposed to come and he put good men at risk trying to save him."

Faramir cowered down, his eyes downcast.

Boromir didn't object though he would have liked to. Instead he stood up, and helped Faramir up cautiously.

Faramir cried out in pain and would have fallen back down had Boromir not held him up. The captain's face didn't change and Boromir decided it was safer if he kept his protests to himself.

The brothers made it outside to where Boromir's horse was saddled and ready to ride back to Gondor. Faramir's face was pale and tight with pain.

Faramir was in no condition to ride, and much less alone, so he was hauled up onto Boromir's horse. Boromir winced in sympathy at his brother's groan of pain even as angry as he still was at his brother's antics.

Boromir was sure he knew why they were requested back in Minas Tirith. Denethor was sure to have known Faramir was missing by now and someone had probably reported seeing him in the battle. One of the scouts most likely.

Boromir climbed on behind his brother who slumped back against him. He wrapped his arms around Faramir's waist and grabbed the reigns opting not to protest to the harsh captain about staying behind. He started off at a gentle trot and decided not to push it harder going over the rough ground.

Faramir groaned and hissed in pain a few times, but generally kept quiet for he also knew the most likely reason they were being called back to Minas Tirith.

They rode all night and continued riding on as dawn began to shine. Faramir dozed on and off.

When they were about another hour's ride from the city Faramir finally broke the silence.

"Boromir?" he questioned.

"Aye."

"Are you angry with me?"

Boromir turned his head so he could see Faramir's face slightly. "Nay, not anymore, and you know I was not angry _with_ you little brother. Only angry with your ridiculous stunt. You scared me. It was foolish thing to do and you know it." He scolded lightly. "You could have been killed, little brother."

Faramir bit his lip. "I know." He said quietly.

"Then why did you do it?" Boromir asked again.

Faramir kept quiet. "You will tell me, Fara. I will get it out of you some way or another, and you know it."

Faramir winced but stubbornly kept quiet, not wanting to reveal his real reason for wanting to come. Now that reason sounded childish, and the guilt of his decision weighed on his heart.

"I am sorry, Boromir." Faramir said sulkily.


	6. Chapter 6

Once the brothers arrived in Minas Tirith Boromir rode straight through the city to the Citadel and the Houses of Healing. He left Faramir in the leave of the Warden of the Houses of Healing while he went to tend to his horse. Faramir had shot him a pleading look just before Boromir left that clearly displayed his displeasure at being left alone with the wretched warden.

Boromir had almost chuckled but he had held himself in check and said, "I must go and alert Father of our return, but I will be back soon. Do not worry."

Faramir cast one more pleading glance over his shoulder as he was lead, stumbling, away.

After Boromir had tended to his horse he went up to his rooms to bathe and don fresh clothing. He gathered his thoughts and then decided it was time to face his father.

Boromir walked purposely down the long corridors to the throne room trying to think of what he would say to his father. Even Boromir had no idea why Faramir had done what he had, and Boromir knew not what to say about it.

Coming at once to the doors of the throne room he took a deep breath before entering with a small nod to the guards.

Denethor sat up from his trance-like state at once. He smiled and stood to embrace his son.

"There is my first-born! He has come back successful from his first campaign."

Boromir smiled wryly and returned his father's embrace.

"Come, my son. You must tell me of all that happened." Denethor said beckoning Boromir to sit down upon a chair that had been placed beside his own.

"Now is not the best of times Father. I promised Faramir I would visit him later, and inquire of his health. I merely came to tell you that we had returned." Boromir said stopping his father cold.

"Faramir." He said quietly. The he asked menacingly. "What has the boy done this time?"

Boromir stood in quiet shock, his mouth gaping. Did his father not already know of what Faramir had done? Did he not know he had been gravely injured?

"Faramir rode to battle with us, and he was injured." Boromir said regaining his composure. "My apologies. I thought you knew."

For a moment Boromir thought he saw a look of concern in Denethor's eyes, but it disappeared almost as soon as it came. Denethor waved his hand. "Of course I knew. That is why I sent for you to return. I could not have that fool of a brother of yours casting a bad reflection upon my name in front of the troops."

Boromir lowered his eyes and set his mouth into a thin line trying to quell his anger. Finally he said, "May I take my leave, Father?"

Denethor seemed lost in thought but he jerked upwards. "Of course. Go, and prepare yourself for a welcoming feast tonight."

Boromir nodded and left the room.


	7. Chapter 7

Boromir had spent the past week visiting his brother in the Houses of Healing. The warden had said he could be released the next day and both brothers knew what that would mean.

If Faramir was pronounced healthy enough to leave he would be healthy enough to take his discipline from Boromir.

Boromir sighed at that thought as he looked up into the star-filled sky from his mother's garden. No one had bothered to tend to it in years and it had overgrown. The willow tree he sat under at the moment held so many memories of their mother it was almost over-whelming to think about.

He remembered sitting in her lap as she sang softly to him or listening to her tell stories of the sea or of ancient battles. Sometimes if wasn't busy Denethor would also join them.  
Faramir had never truly known how is mother really had been and wouldn't probably have remembered it anyways. He had been too young and after he was born their mother didn't act the same anymore. She spoke of the sea all the time but she was ill and could not bear to travel there.

Boromir felt tears gathering in his eyes as he remembered the day before his mother had died when she had sent for her sons. He remembered standing beside her bed as Faramir cried into his shirt. He remembered what his mother had said.

_ "Boromir, I want you to promise me that you will take good care of your little brother no matter what. I love you both dearly and I could not bear to let anything happen to you. Take care of him, Boromir."_

_ "I will, Mama." Boromir had said as sobs choked his throat._

Now he found that sobs were choking him once more.

He shook these thoughts from his head.

He had promised his mother to look after Faramir which included making sure he stayed out trouble, and didn't put himself in life-threatening situations.

Boromir stood shakily, regaining his composure.

He forced his legs to carry him to his brother's chambers where Faramir had been sent to the moment he was released.

He was definitely going to make sure that his brother didn't put himself in life-threatening situations anymore.


	8. Chapter 8

Faramir sat anxiously on the edge of his bed. He knew there was no way that Boromir was going to let him off easily for this. He had acted foolishly and Faramir could already feel his bottom tingling in anticipation.

Suddenly the door opened and Faramir's head shot up.

Boromir walked silently into the room, never a good sign. Faramir stood quickly and opened his mouth trying to say something, perhaps to placate his brother's anger, but nothing came out. Boromir noticed his little brother's distress and held up a hand.

"I am not angry, little brother. Nor would I ever be angry with you, only with something you had done." He said gently, but firmly.

Faramir relaxed a bit, but he was still apprehensive.

Boromir walked to the window and gazed out at the city. Another pang for his mother hit him and then, quite suddenly, anger at his father rose up.

His father was ever making Faramir feel unloved. That was one of the reasons Faramir always avoided his father whenever he could, yet in everything he did he was ever yearning for Denethor's approval although it never came. Then Faramir would seek out Boromir's approval and Boromir of course gave it to him, but Faramir was seeking his father's love not his brother's.

It suddenly hit Boromir. _Was that all it was? Was his brother merely seeking attention? _He thought.

If so Faramir had gone a long way to get it, and he was certainly going to have it, though he may not like all of it.

"Big brother?" Faramir asked timidly.

Boromir turned sharply shocked at hearing Faramir call him such an endearing name again. Faramir usually only called him by his name or if he was feeling particularly childish he would call him 'Bor'mir', a pet name from when they were younger and he couldn't say his big brother's name correctly.

"Aye?" Boromir asked.

Faramir looked as though he was struggling with himself to get the words out. "I, I am sorry that you are disappointed with my behavior. I failed in battle and—"

He got no further because Boromir strode across the room in three steps and crushed his little brother into his embrace.

"I am not disappointed in you, you brat. I love you, and you did not fail in battle. You fought bravely and I am proud of you for doing so, even," Boromir gave Faramir a stern look, "though you shouldn't have been there in the first place."

Faramir let himself be held and reassured of his brother's love for a few more moments before pulling away slightly. Boromir looked down with a questioning look in his eyes.

"Does this mean I'm not getting a spanking?" Faramir asked hopefully.

Boromir gave him another stern look that answered the question perfectly well.

Faramir sighed. "I thought it was at least worth a try."

Boromir bit a back a laugh at Faramir's woebegone look and ruffled his hair. "Come, little brother. Let us have this over with."

Boromir released Faramir from his grasp and moved to sit on the bed. Faramir stayed frozen in his spot unable to make his feet take the last half dozen steps to his brother's side.

Boromir kept his features stern while he spoke. "Do not make me come get you, brat little brother."

Faramir shuffled forward and when he was within arms reach Boromir grabbed his wrist and gently lead him over is lap. Faramir wriggled a bit but didn't make as though he were going to try and fight Boromir.

Faramir whimpered and buried his head in the crook of his left arm, and curled the other one around Boromir's lower leg. Boromir smiled at the trembling lad in front of him and gently stroked his hair.

"Shhh, little brother. All will be well. Shh, you are so good. I am so proud of you little one." Boromir whispered in an attempt to calm his brother down.

Boromir took a deep breath and strengthen his resolve. He lifted his hand high and brought it down hard in an 'attention getting' swat.

Faramir bucked up but only whimpered as Boromir set into his usual steady pace. It wasn't long until he was weeping softly and even sooner he was sobbing.

Finally Boromir spoke to which Faramir was glad to finally have something to take his mind off of the ever building fire in his bottom.

"Faramir, why are you being spanked?" He asked.

Oh how Faramir hated that question. "'Cause I s-s-sneaked off, and g-got h-hurt."

Boromir smiled slightly. "Very good, little brother. And why was it bad that you 'sneaked off and got hurt'?

Faramir sobbed for a moment as he thought. It was becoming harder to think as his brain was becoming fuddled.

"Answer me, little one." Boromir said with a particularly hard swat.

Faramir jerked and cried out. "'Cause I worried y-you!"

"Good. We are almost finished." Boromir murmured. "Why did you sneak off?"

Faramir sobbed, "I don't know!"

"You do."

Faramir buried his face in the covers once more and shook his head.

Boromir sighed at his brother's stubbornness.

"Did it have anything to do with the fact that you wanted to impress me and father?" Boromir asked.

Faramir froze and Boromir said, "Well, does it?"

Faramir didn't want to admit it at all. It was the last thing he wanted to do but he wanted this to be over so that he might someday sit again.

"Yes." He said quietly, but not so quietly that Boromir could not hear him.

Boromir stopped spanking him immediately and scooped his dear little brother into his arms.

"Shhh," he whispered into his brother's hair. "Calm down. Shh, 'tis alright now little brother." Boromir continued murmuring words of comfort and rubbing slow circles on Faramir's back until at last his sobs turned to slow weeping and then to hiccups.

Boromir held his brother close for another moment before pulling away slightly. "Faramir," He said gently. "Look at me."

Faramir looked up apparently still a bit humiliated at the whole ordeal.

Boromir grinned. "A bit sore, are we?" He asked playfully.

Faramir blushed but returned a sheepish grin. "You spanked me too hard, Bor'mir." He said burying his face back into his brother's shirt.

Boromir chuckled. "You deserved every swat, you impertinent brat." He hugged Faramir closer and they sat like that for a time until Faramir's breath seemed to even out and he fell asleep.


End file.
